


Tattooing flowers

by andthestorystarts



Category: The Maze Runner (2014), The Maze Runner Series - James Dashner
Genre: Alternate Universe, Maze Runner AU, minho's not in it yet but he sure will be, tattooed newt mmhmmm
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-10-08
Updated: 2014-12-03
Packaged: 2018-02-20 09:16:28
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,317
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2423354
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/andthestorystarts/pseuds/andthestorystarts
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Inspired by a post on Tumblr- about a flower store next to a tattoo place.<br/>Thomas works in a flower shop. One day, someone particular comes in.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> i have no idea where the tumblr post is but yall probably know it anyway  
> i have no idea if they're ooc in this its strangely hard to write them when they're outside the maze cause it automatically changes their personalities a little?  
> anyway  
> i was yelling about this idea with a friend for a full day so i decided to give it a shot

When Thomas agreed to the job Teresa had been offering, he had thought he’d be lugging stuff around, be the pack mule of sorts.  
Turns out he was stuck behind the counter half the day, flitting around the masses of flowers on display, and helping any customers who came in to decide on the ones they wanted. He liked flowers, and he in no way found the job emasculating like he knew some guys would.  (Cue eyeroll here.)  
Not that he was complaining with it- he ended up finding it rather peaceful, the flowers bringing an air of calm to the days in the store. It was the least stressful job he’d ever had. Which y’know, he was completely grateful for.

The rows of flowers were undisturbed and still after the last customer had left about five minutes previously, and Thomas’s fingers were rapping on the surface of the counter, as he debated fishing one of the books out of his bag so he could continue reading.  
The tinkling of the bell above the door dismissed this thought, and Thomas looked up from where his gaze had rested, towards the person who had entered the store. Now, Thomas usually played a game in his head to pass time a little, called ‘Lets figure out what they’re gonna get’ – not a very flash title, but it gets the job done. The last two had been women of differing ages, one wanting to brighten up her husband’s day, and the other to give to a friend. The person before _them_ had been an old man, who came to the store fairly often, and he was… surprisingly nice, but hadn’t ever volunteered any info as to why he wanted the flowers.  
Thomas was expecting maybe another man to balance out the ratio for the last hour, which is what he got.

He hadn’t been expecting him to look so goddamn _fine_.

 

The guy was perusing the little isles, with the air that he knew what kind of flower he wanted, and just had to find it. He had dirty blonde hair, cut short, bangs sweeping across his forehead. He looked sorta small, but as he slowly meandered closer to the counter, still checking the flowers, Thomas realized that he might be taller than him- he was lean, the kind of way that deceptively made him seem shorter than he actually was. He had slim dark jeans on, along with a brown short sleeved shirt, and there were tattoos all. Over. His arms. There was a swirl of colours high on his left arm, looking a little like a watercolour of some kind, a couple bands of black circling around on his right arm, just below where the sleeve ended, and a mass of straight lines lower down which took up a lot of his forearm, and Thomas couldn’t quite make out what they were. Wow. And some more patterns, green this time, sneaking up the side of his neck. _Wow_. There was something that looked black and mechanical peaking out on his left side, curling over his shoulder and jutting down his chest, past his visible collarbone, disappearing back into the neckline as it thinned out, looking like whatever it was ended just below.    
Thomas shook himself out of his mental daze when he realized the guy had picked up a little bundle of flowers, and was coming over to the counter.

‘Hey there, would you like those wrapped up?’ Thank god for automatic questions.  He could now tell that the mass of lines on his forearm was something like... a maze? Looked pretty cool, Thomas had to hand it to him.    
After a couple of moments thought, the guy shook his head as he handed over the money. ‘Na, don’t need anything fancy like that.’ Oh shit he’s got an _accent._ Oh no that’s so completely unfair.  
‘They’re flowers usually meant for happy events, but you don’t want them wrapped- not for a date then, I take it?’  
That made the guy crack into what seemed to be a genuine smile, something which Thomas was quietly proud of. ‘Just for a friend.’  
‘Lucky friend.’ Thomas only muttered it as he fiddled at the till, but apparently the guy heard, because he has a cocked eyebrow and a small smile when Thomas looked up to hand him his change. Quick, scramble for something! ‘I mean, these flowers are pretty- well, they’re not my favourite, but they’re pretty nice, yeah.’   

  
‘Then what _is_ your favourite kind of flower?’ The smile was still on the guy’s face, and he was looking amused.  
The answer was there immediately, as Thomas had gotten used to answering this kind of question. ‘Fuschias.’ The already raised eyebrow was joined by its pair. ‘Yeah I know it’s usually seen as girly but hey they look like little faeries with skirts what can I say they’re cool.’ He got a little nod as a reply, and the return question seemed obvious. ‘So what about yours?’    
There was a few seconds while he thought about it, but he eventually returned with, ‘Snapdragons.’ Thomas could admit they were pretty cool too. ‘There were a bunch of them near where I grew up, so I can be a bit biased.’  
  
There were a few seconds of quiet, before Thomas realized he was still holding the flowers. He’d managed to give the change back at some point during the conversation, but not the flowers.  
As he held them towards the stranger, a panic button got hit and he blurted out, ‘Did you know there’s a flower that smells like rotting bodies?’ He regretted it the second it was said. Hell, he regretted it as he was saying it. ‘I mean, uh-’  
‘Seriously?’ The guy looked surprised, and curious, but not creeped out in the slightest(which had been the reaction of the last person Thomas had accidently unloaded that fact onto.)  
‘Yeah, it’s out there. And there are some others that smell like meat too, not just specifically- oh my god,’ Thomas raised his (now free) hands and put them over his face. ‘I’m gonna shut up now.’    
A small laugh came from the guy. ‘Na man, it’s interesting.’ He peeked through his fingers and saw him checking his watch. ‘However, I gotta go.’ Lifting the flowers a little, ‘Y’know, deliver these suckers.’  
‘Yeah good idea, run before I can keep babbling.’ As the customer turned to leave, Thomas took a breath , lowered his hands, sat up straighter, and delivered the line he was used to by then. ‘I hope you have a good day!’  
He was basically forced to say that to each person who came in, and most people sort of half-heartedly said the same, some ignored it, but this one looked back at him at he got to the door, said ‘Yeah, you too man,’ with a genuine half smile, and then slipped out of the shop.  
As he left the view the windows provided to the street outside, Thomas let a long breath out, sinking in his chair a little. 

He assumed he was never gonna set eyes on the guy again, since he had looked like the kind of person who was a once-off, only stepping into the shop once due to convenience.  
  
And he was right.  
Thomas didn’t see him again.

 

..For like two weeks.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this start part hasnt been planned basically the planning kicks in a little later on and im always slower on parts i havent got planning for so mmnnneeh another short chapter but ff its basically 1am rn who gives a fig  
> okay yeah its 1am so i havent really checked for errors so sorry if there are some i'll take a look at it tomorrow
> 
> anyway heres these fuckin nerds

Now and then across the next couple of weeks, Thomas kept thinking he sees the guy. Mainly when he’s in the store, fiddling with the flower arrangements or stuck behind the counter, thinking he sees that particular shade of blonde out of the corner of his eye. This happened more often than he ever expected. It had happened before with some customers, the ones that were memorable to whatever degree. But after about the fourteenth time of whipping his head up as some blondie walks by the window -come on that wasn’t even a male and she’s got hair down to her waist- he thinks its getting a bit weird.  
He tried to put it out of his mind.

 

A few days later, it was nearing the end of the work day, and Thomas was changing out the water on some of the vases, specifically the ones on display that were there less for sale and more to encourage people to actually look at the place. He was about halfway through this, grabbing a vase, taking it out to one of the back rooms, tipping old water out, filling it up again, return it to its place, and repeat cycle- when someone stepped into the store. No tinkling from the bell to warn him this time, as he had propped the door open a few hours earlier in an attempt to combat some of the heat inside. However, footsteps are usually audible- but Thomas was in one of the back rooms, and he was running water. Because of this, he hadn’t realized anyone had entered the store. He tipped the water out of the vase he was holding, gave it a refill, slowly, taking care not to splash any on himself as he’d done a few times, or fill it up to much, then went back out to the main room.  
His concentration was on the vase in his hands, not on checking the store, since he had (wrongly) thought it was empty. Then he looked up, and saw the guy. The guy guy. The blonde-y guy with the tattoos from a couple of weeks before. Yeah. That guy.    
Afterwards, he wasn’t sure how long he paused for, but eventually he said, ‘Hey, its you again,’ and started moving to the front to put the vase back on the display in the window.  
  
The guy looked up as Thomas said this, and a ghost of a smile crossed across his face for a moment before it disappeared. ‘Yeah, me again.’  
Thomas had to pass him to get to the display, and as he did so he realized the guy was looking at the same flowers as before. He set the vase down gently in its spot, the glass making a quiet _tink_ as he did so, and turned back to the customer, dragging his hands across his jeans, wiping any errant water drops away.  
  
‘So, do they just really like this kind of flower or is this for a different person?’ The guy glanced up from the flowers, which he’d been looking at like they held precious and important secrets.  
It took a couple of seconds for the gears to start clicking again, it seemed. He blinked, and shook his head the tiniest bit, as if adjusting his thoughts back into place. ‘Ah, sorry, yeah same person.’  He plucked some of them from the little tub, and the both of them made their way to the counter, Thomas slipping behind it, as the guy fumbled in his pocket with his free hand to obtain his wallet.  
‘Okay so no gift wrap for the stalks if you’re sticking to the same as last time, but it seems a waste not to add a ribbon on at the very least.’ The guy looked at him. ‘Well, I mean, cmon. Flowers, yeah okay sure. Add a ribbon and bam they just have a different feel to them, yknow? Somehow a little more personal.’ A momentary pause went by, wherein Thomas laughed (a little awkwardly) and rubbed the back of his neck. ‘Or at least that’s what I think. I could be sounding barking mad to you for all I know.’  
There passed another couple of seconds while Thomas was weighing the pros and cons of just puddling beneath the counter and never coming out ever again- and then the guy shrugged, ‘Why not?’ and passed the flowers over, with the money following along soon after.  
  
Thomas left the money there sitting there for a bit, while he selected and cut a length of ribbon, picking a light blue to go with the yellow petals, looping it around the stalks neatly, pulling and tying it tightly enough that a death grip on the flowers was no longer necessary. Passing them over, he swiped up the money, quickly rooting through the change and dropping the respective coins into the guy’s waiting hand.

There’s that weird moment where the customer’s fumbling with the money (and often purchase) and the only thing the person behind the counter can do is stand there.  
It passed, and for a few beats the both of them just stood there, not really looking at each other, one of those odd not particularly special moments that just happens, that’ll shatter when someone opens their mouth.  
It was Thomas that did so.  
  
‘So, do you think you’re gonna come back? For more flowers I mean, duh.’ His hand shifted up, going to scrub his hair at the nape of his neck. ‘Cause if you are, I might need to get a name from ya, so I don’t have to keep calling you just...’ his other hand came round to the front, tilted so his thumb was pointing to the ceiling, fingers spread, ‘ _-guy_ , in my head.’  
‘Hm,’ he was rolling the stalks gently between his hands, smelling the blooms. Then, he looked up and smiled, small but genuine. ‘Well, I suppose I’ll come back, since the flowers are nice.’ He stuck one hand out, ‘I’m Newt.’  
  
Automatically, Thomas had taken the offered hand, returning the shake. He was only reminded that he had to say something in return when the gu- _Newt_ raised an eyebrow, tiny little smile still in place. ‘Oh -ah shit sorry- I’m Thomas!’  
Newt seemed satisfied with that, and gave their hands a single, more firm shake. ‘Thomas.’ He said it as if he were mulling it over, seeing how it sounded in his mouth. It made a small shiver work its way down Thomas’ spine, and he realized he had let go of his hand. He decided to stuff it in his pocket, with the other one following suit. His shoulders hunched up a little, ‘It’s nice to meet you properly, Newt!’ A smile to accompany, and then Newt’s little smile widened into a proper one right back at him.

Newt had mentioned that he’d probably pop back by again in another couple of weeks, or maybe before that, and Thomas had nodded and promised to make sure the particular flower was in stock.

 

Long after Newt had walked out the door, and even after Thomas had locked up for the day and had left for home, the smile he’d been given stuck fast in his mind, like it had been branded into his lids.  
  
Part of him wondered who the flowers were for.  
Part of him just wanted to see that smile again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> just out of curiosity, whats you guys' theories as to what/who newt's getting those flowers for? say your opinion in the comments!


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> im a butt for updating so irregularly im sorry ;-;  
> on the upside i was going well and this one is longer than the other two chapters yay
> 
> the tenses are so fucked up in this but its 1am so i really dont care cause i sssssssssssuck at tenses sorry

At the start of each morning, while he puttered about setting up the shop, Thomas would idly wonder if Newt would come back in. Logically, he knew that it probably wouldn't be for a while, since Newt himself had said that it would likely be at least a couple of weeks.  
Still, it was like waiting for a package in the mail, that small almost irrational hope that it might come earlier than planned, the question of 'will it be today?'  
  
This time Newt happened to appear a few minutes before Thomas was planning to close up, when he was starting to take in some of the non-essential signs from outside.  
As he was trying to get a proper handle on the ironically handle-less sign a few feet from the door, he heard a 'Yo, Thomas!' that was evidently meant for him, since there didn't seem to be any reply.  
'Haaaang on,' The sign was tucked under his chin, one of his arms uncomfortably held between his chest and the sign, the other looped around the front of it, and he was fumbling with sticking his fingers underneath it, barely managing to hold on to the clumsy and just plain annoying thing.  
Looking round, he spied Newt dressed in a thin white hoodie with a bag slung over his shoulder, the strap crossing his chest. 'Oh, hey!' The sign decided then was the right moment to slip, and the both of them made a jerking motion, Newt's hands coming up, before Thomas managed to get his fingers into a more stable grip, curling around the other side of the sign too. 'M good. It's good it's fine it's fine.' -It had to be said carefully, since the sign was digging into the soft part of his chin, restricting his movements a little.  
'Y'sure?' Newt looked a mix of slightly amused as well as worried, hands still held at the ready to snag the sign if needed.  
'Yeeeeeeep.' Thomas had to do an ungraceful walk back into the shop, winding his way carefully through the flowers, till he got to the back room, where he dumped the sign down greatfully(albeit a little carelessly. As many times as he'd dropped it on his toes, it deserved a little payback in his book.)  
  
When he came back out, wiping his hands on his little apron as he did so, Newt was back at the same place as the last two times, near the little tub that had yellow petals hanging gently over the rim.  
'You want those ones again? Ribbon or no?' Newt lifted one of the little bundles up, and brought it to the counter.  
'Yeahp. Little repeditive, but I'll be shucked if I pick a different one now.' One word in that sentence went right over Thomas' head, having no idea at all what it meant, but decided not to say anything, and reached for the ribbon and scissors. When the stalks had been tied together, they both handed what they were holding over- something which minimised the shuffle and awkward waiting from both parties.  
  
As Thomas was dropping the change into Newt's palm, the other spoke suddenly. 'Hey, you wanna go down to the library?'  
 _Blink._ 'Why?' A semi-shrug followed the question.  
'Cause I feel like hanging out with someone and you seem like a cool guy.'  
 _Blink blink._ Snap back into proper thought. 'Y-yeah that sounds cool- I gotta pack up the shop though.'  
A flapping hand follows suit. 'Yeah yeah I know, I gotta deliver these too,' he lifted the flowers up a fraction, enough to draw the eye. 'Meet you back here after I've done that?'  
'If I'm not finished by then I'll force you to help, since then you won't have the worry of flower mauling.' Thomas warned.  
'Sounds fair to me.'  
'See you soon, then?'  
'See you soon.'  
  
  
It took him about half an hour to set everything straight in the store. He was then faced with the decision to either lock up and wait outside, or fiddle around inside the store.  
He went with the latter, since it had things to do that didn't include leaning against the door for god knows how long.  
  
About ten minutes later, Newt showed up again, looking the same as before, sans the flowers. 'Need any help?' Thomas straightened up the flowers he'd been arranging.  
'Na, just finishing.' He snagged the keys off the counter, along with his bag from behind it, and shooed Newt out of the door.  
  
The walk there is quiet, but not in the kind of way that ensues when you're alone with someone you don't know very well. It was comfortable. They talked about various things, none of them particularly important.  
  
  
They threaded through the library isles, and found a spot where there weren't many people. Newt claimed it was his favourite spot in the place, and Thomas could well see why, as the seats were facing a big window, which looked out over the beach, high enough on a dune that the waves had no chance of reaching the glass, even at high tide. The chairs were close enough together that they didn't have to speak much louder than a whisper if needed, a fact for which Thomas was immensely grateful, since he hated making noise in any library.  
  
After some more talk, which at one point directed towards _'whats the biggest fuckup you've done in front of your strictest teacher'_ along with discussing whether or not _'a fish could safely go into space,_ ' Thomas lifted himself up in the chair a little, seating his elbows on one of the well-padded armrest.  
'Okay so I gotta ask, you totally don't have to answer if you don't want to- but what are your tattos? I mean I can figure out the one on your right forearm is like, a maze or something, but I'm not sure about the one on your shoulder there,' he flicked a finger towards the mechanical looking one that was still partially visible because of the hoodie's neckline.  
Newt glanced down, and the pads of his fingers grazed his mouth for a second before lifting away. 'How about I tell you about some of the other ones first, then show you that one? It's a little difficult to explain, is all.'  
  
'Okay the black bands here,' his fingers shifted over his right arm, now bare for the most part since he had to wriggle out of the hoodie- which was now draped over his bag near his feet- 'it's just what it looks like its got literally no meaning behind it.'  
Well that was simple enough.  
'This here' shifting down his arm 'is yeah, a maze. That's also got a reason behind it but eh, another bit of a weird one.'  
His weight moved, so that he was now aiming at his left one. 'This one is a watercolour, took bloody ages to find an artist I was satisfied with to do it.' It looked to be a bird, made up of lines and angles, colour spilling over and dragging at the lines. It was a little nonsensical, but Thomas found he really liked it.  
  
Newt was pushing the fabric of his sleeves up a little and turning his arms so that Thomas could see each of the tattoos clearly, and only moved on to the next one when he nodded.  
The green snaking up his neck was after that. 'Ivy?' Thomas ventured. Newt glanced at him, even though his neck was stretched to give Thomas a better look. It meant he was peeking at him from the corner of his eyes. The corner of his mouth ticked upwards into a small smile.  
'Ding ding ding we have a winner folks.'  
  
After he had seen all the detail of that one, Newt looked around the room. Thomas did too. It was empty, the people who had been the previously obviously having left at some point.  
When Newt spoke, it was quiet, and he seemed to be mulling something over. 'If they find me without a shirt on, do you think I'd get kicked out?' A laugh found its way out of Thomas before he had realised it was even going to start.  
'I uh, have no idea. How about, if they get mad, tell them you just came in from the beach?'  
'Hm. That might just buggin work. Right then.' His fingers went to the hem of his shirt, and in the next moment he was pulling it over his head, and Thomas was faced with an expanse of chest. He'd be lying if he didn't say he stared for a couple of seconds while Newt dumped his shirt over his jersey.  
Turned out the vines up the side of his neck also extended down his chest a little, wrapping around the top of his arm. But the thing that caught Thomas's attention was the tattoo he'd asked about. It was definitely mechanical, wires and screws and metal and so much detail meshing smoothly together. It lead over his shoulder, down past his collarbone, and just over his heart, it split, into a claw, like a mega upgraded version of the ones in those stupid grabber games.  
The design felt.. familiar to Thomas, though for the life of him, he couldn't think of why.   
  
After a long time(Thomas lost track of how long, he just hoped he hadn't been goggling as much as he thought he had) Thomas nodded, and Newt did the same back, inclining his head. 'Well thats the front of it, aaaand the other one I dont get to see as often, but eh.' He turned, and Thomas blinked. It looked.. incomplete. The mechanical parts just sort of.. there were little bits of metal sticking out, little bits of wire, looking like they were meant to attach to something bigger- that wasn't there.   
Thomas got his explanation just as he opened his mouth to ask.   
'It's not finished. I mean it is, that part of it, but. I dunno, I just never really found a way I felt that was _right_ to finish it with. So I just. haven't.'   
Thomas got the vibe that he shouldn't really pry into it, so he snagged Newt's shirt and tossed it at him. 'Now that I've seen em you should put your clothes back on. You might scare some little old lady who walks in. Could give her a heart attack.'   
Newt gave him a ridiculously obvious eye roll, but shrugged his shirt on anyway.   
  
'You really like tattoos don't you?'  
'Well uh, yeah, I'm a tattoo artist, it's basically part of the job description.'  
Thomas' eyebrows shot up. 'Are you really? Cooool. Oh hey, there's a tattoo parlour right next to my place!' (See also: flower store)  
'Yeah, I know, I work there.'  
  
  
Thomas stared at Newt, who was at first completely deadpan, but a smile started ever so slightly stretching across his face the longer Thomas didn't even react.   
  
By the time Thomas finally moved, making a wild gesture that almost tipped him out of his seat, Newt actually laughed. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> weird place to end it but
> 
> 1am  
> stupid sleeping hours  
> tired  
> yea  
> hopefully i'll write more of these dorks soon


End file.
